


Last Moon

by aurelie_saintjuste



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Full Moon, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Shrieking Shack, Werewolf, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-10
Updated: 2017-10-10
Packaged: 2019-01-15 19:36:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12327465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurelie_saintjuste/pseuds/aurelie_saintjuste
Summary: Remus frets over his final transformation before leaving Hogwarts, only to be comforted by the one constant star in his life.





	Last Moon

The silvery, fat orb of the moon set as it always did, sinking low beneath the horizon, only to be replaced by inky darkness giving way to the pale pink first light of dawn.  For nearly his entire life, Remus counted this pre-dawn cycle to be as constant as the moon itself: the poisonous light of the full moon would, as it always did, recede and allow his bones to shift painfully back into their human form.  His muscles and skin would tear and reshape, the excruciating cracks and pops of a body morphing from canine to human.  Left in the wake of the moon were the destructive bites and rends in in his flesh, bloodied wounds and misshapen bones.

As weak fingers of light dappled the dusty, faded carpet of the once-opulent parlour of the Shrieking Shack, Remus found himself staring at the crumbling ceiling.  His human lungs aching for air as his chest heaved, his body making its final adjustment to its human form once again.

His senses were on fire, everything was just on the side of Too Much.  Amber eyes squeezed shut against reality, his wolf eyes would have been able to cut out every corner and angle of the room, even in the darkness.  He could smell - and maybe even taste - the omnipresent odor of dust mingle with the countless bottles of Ogden’s Old and Sirius and James’ favorite Muggle cigarettes linger in the air.    It made his empty stomach turn, willing himself not to retch.  Remus curled in on his naked self, hugging his knees to his chest tightly and wishing he had enough magic in him to transfigure a blanket.

“Moony?” ventured a whisper from somewhere behind him, “Moony are you alright?”

Sirius.  As reliable as the stars in the constellation he was named for, Sirius had followed him all the way to the Shrieking Shack at the end of another night with the wolf.  Remus tried to take mental stock of where he’d last encountered James and Peter in the woods, but the thought process was making him dizzy and not helping the thudding in his temples.

Before he had a chance to respond, he felt the warmth of another person in his space and long, slender fingers carding the matted curls at the top of his head as he passed.  Remus tensed with the worry that his already suffering body might betray another condition whose secret he kept closely guarded.

“Found your stash,” Sirius said on a grin, draping a musty blanket over Remus before sitting cross-legged on the floor in a pair of denims that was more thread than jeans.  He leaned back against the creaky divan.  Remus heard the rip of paper and foil, the smell of Honeydukes’ creamiest milk chocolate.  “I know it’s your favorite.”

“I also brought you some tea, since  _ someone’s _ too good for the Ogden’s,”  Sirius shrugged, taking a deep pull of the latter.   The sharp smell of alcohol sent Remus’ stomach on the edge of mutiny again.   He took a deep, shaky breath and pulled the fraying corners of the blanket close around his sharp, aching shoulders.

“What am I going to do, Pads?” Remus said on a hushed, cracking voice.

“Do?”  Sirius questioned, cracking into the bar of chocolate and sliding a small tab into Remus’ hand. 

Remus shivered and pushed himself into a seated position, folding himself into the corner of the velvet divan. He leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling, as if the answer to his question might magically appear on its spidery cracks.  “It’s graduation next month.”

Sirius set down the bottle of Ogden’s Old and turned to face his friend from his position on the ground, folding his arms on the ugly patterned cushion.  He arched an impossibly handsome brow.  “Sorry, Moony, I’m afraid I don’t see the problem. The whole intention of Hogwarts was to prepare us for the real world and all that rot.”

For a normal student, Sirius was spot on.  Seven years worth of magical education was enough to prepare any young witch or wizard for whatever their world might throw at them.  But Hogwarts meant something different for Remus, who always lived in the shadows of “what if.”  Remus never expected his letter.  His parents, though well intentioned, always tread carefully around the hallmarks of normal childhood.  That Remus received his letter and personal attention from Albus Dumbledore at all was more than the Lupin family could have ever expected.

Sirius couldn’t be blamed for not understanding.  Despite his own family drama, he would never have to worry about registering himself as, effectively, a criminal.

“I’ll never survive out there, Sirius.  Not alone.  Not without,” Remus gestured weakly to the dusty artifacts of the safehouse he’d used after transformation for all these months. “Sirius, once we… once we graduate, once we leave Hogwarts, I’ll…” 

Realization spread across Sirius’ fine features, lit his silver eyes.  “Don’t be daft, Moony.” 

“Where am I going to go?  The moment we graduate, I’ll have no choice but to register.  I’ll be living on the street, I can’t go back to my parents, not like this.  The wolf will be too strong for -- I could… I could kill them!”  Remus’ voice rose frantically with every hypothetical situation.  Sirius could see him exerting energy he didn’t have as his mind ran faster and faster.

“Moony.” 

“No pack will accept me - would I even want to --” 

“Moony.” 

“I’ll be alone, Sirius.” 

Sirius stood and took Remus by the shoulders, perhaps with more force than he intended.  He met wide amber eyes with his silver.  “Do you really think I’m going to allow that?” 

“You’ll have your own life, Sirius,”  Remus said on a whisper laced with hurt.  He tried to shake Sirius’ hands from his shoulders, but even the gentle jolt sent a shooting pain through his bruised ribs.  “And I won’t hold you back from it.” 

“Shove over you bloody fool,” Sirius said, attempting to carve a spot on the divan beside Remus.  Remus wasn’t sure if it was exhaustion or acceptance of the need to be comforted, but he obliged, curling tighter into the cushions to make room for Sirius’ long limbs.

“Do you think that James or Peter or… or I would ever shut you out, just because some wanker at the Ministry says we’re done with school?” 

To this, Remus said nothing, suddenly feeling heat rise to his cheeks.  He was embarrassed to meet Sirius’ eyes.

“Do you?” 

“No,”  Remus confessed, “No, but Sirius, consider your own futures - I’ll only ever put you in danger.  And I’ll not be a burden on any of you.” 

“That you would ever consider yourself more of a burden to me than you are my future is completely infuriating, Remus.” 

A self-deprecating reply danced on Remus’ tongue, but was caught in a sharp intake of breath. Heat burned in his cheeks and pooled in his belly.  His heart raced.  How long had he dared to dream of the moment where his friendship with SIrius crescendoed into something more.

Remus had no time to consider how many sleepless nights he had endured dreaming of Sirius Black, because the distance between them closed swiftly as Sirius trailed those fine, long fingers down his cheek.  They settled at his jaw as he leaned in carefully to bring their mouths together.  Remus sat there, dumbstruck and naked under his moth-eaten blanket, horrified at his inability to act or process or even breathe as he allowed Sirius to kiss him. 

Sirius pulled back, fingers training from Remus’ jaw down to rest gently at his throat.  He searched for those amber eyes again, and when they met, Remus felt the silver gaze bore straight through him.  There was a long pause wherein he struggled to find his next words.

“Sirius, this is a --”

“Don’t you dare say this is a mistake, Remus Lupin!  I’ve had it with your inability to see just how valuable and important and… and loved you are.  That you would ever question our willingness -- no,  _ my _ willingness to do… to do  _ anything _ for you is maddening!  Will you shut up and let me tell you that everything will be okay, you great prat?” 

This time it was Remus who closed the gap between them, his head finding the juncture of Sirius’ neck and shoulder. He heaved a great sigh - of joy?  Of relief? Maybe exhaustion? - against Sirius’ alabaster skin, and for the first time in several days, a small smile played on his lips.  It all seemed like an impossible dream until Sirius very gently wrapped his arms around his bruised shoulders.  

“I’ll not leave your future and your welfare up to chance, Moony.  We’ll sort everything out, I promise you. You’ll never be alone.”

Sirius gingerly tightened his arm around Remus’ shoulder, the other slipping around his waist to hold him close.  Remus slipped his legs over Sirius’ lap, his two scarred arms around Sirius’ long pureblood neck, allowing his fingers to comb through Sirius’ soft, dark hair.  For the first time since the moon set, Remus’ breath found its natural, relaxed cadence and life outside the Shrieking Shack started feeling less bleak.  The familiar heat that pooled in his stomach when Sirius came too close, or brushed his hand against his arm, or met his gaze, or did just about anything that invaded Remus’ personal space had made its comeback, but rather than dreading its arrival, he had finally found comfort in it.

Remus wasn’t sure how long they sat entwined together in comfortable quiet before Sirius’ breathing was interrupted by a short laugh, a sound he felt more than heard as he leaned into the man’s warm body.

“What’s so funny?” Remus murmured tiredly into his companion’s neck, fighting the urge to discover the soft skin behind Sirius’ ear with his mouth.  He was kept in place by the flaring aches deep in his bones and the exhaustion plaguing his entire being.

Sirius lifted a hand to run through Remus’ tawny curls, “It took me four years to say all of that.”  he confessed,  “Since third year, Moony,  _ third year _ , I’ve always kind of known we’d end up like this.”

“Like what, Padfoot?” 

“Each others.”  He said with a little shrug.  “Are you well enough to walk, then?  I’m not much of a hopeless romantic, and frankly, I could do with some breakfast once we get you sorted with Pomfrey.  Right then - where’d your clothes get to?”

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this while watching an appropriately titled documentary on Netflix, "Do We Really Need The Moon?", and under the influence of a lot of cold medicine. If you enjoyed it, thank pneumonia. If it was rubbish, blame pneumonia. Either way, it's my first Wolfstar offering, and I really super love these two nerds. I'm on tumblr @ agent-aurelie, let's play.


End file.
